


Quiet River

by GRIMALKIND (PrinceWinter)



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Animal Death, Anyone can die, Fanmade clans, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Multi, Poisoning, Psychological Trauma, Sickness, everything is dying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-03-13 08:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18937579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceWinter/pseuds/GRIMALKIND
Summary: Medicine cats are the backbone of a clan. The leader may be the face, but nothing works without a connection to StarClan, and the knowledge needed to heal the sick.Rainfall, MudClan's medicine cat, is just trying to hold himself together as bodies pile at his feet.





	1. ALLEGIANCES + CHAPTER 1

ALLEGIANCES

 

 

**MudClan:**

Leader -

Willowstar: Silver tabby she-cat with gray eyes.

 

Deputy -

Duskpelt: Pale tortoiseshell she-cat with amber eyes and a white underbelly.

(Apprentice: Thriftpaw)

 

Medicine Cat -

Rainfall: Blue tabby and white tom with one green eye and one amber eye.

Apprentice -

Mosspaw: Tortoiseshell tabby she-cat with copper eyes.

Warriors -

Brambleflight: Brown she-cat with green eyes.

(Apprentice: Pebblepaw)

 

Cloverlight: White she-cat with gray spotted tabby patches and yellow eyes.

 

Firetalon: Sand-colored tabby tom with copper eyes.

(Apprentice: Cinderpaw)

Sunfeather: White tom with red tabby patches and green eyes.

Bristletooth: Pale tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes and a white chest and paws.

Galeface: Dark gray tabby she-cat with yellow eyes.

Patchsong: Pale tortoiseshell she-cat with one eye missing.

(Apprentice: Kestrelpaw)

Wildstep: Pale tortoiseshell tabby she-cat with yellow eyes and white ears.

Goosepelt: Dark gray tabby tom with amber eyes and a white tail-tip.

Frogspots: Dusty brown tabby tom with yellow eyes.

Acornpath: Reddish brown she-cat with violet eyes.

Hawkflight: Pale golden tom with one eye missing.

Apprentices -

Pebblepaw: Blue-gray tabby tom with green eyes and a white chest and paws.

Thriftpaw: Orange ticked tabby she-cat with green eyes and a white underbelly.

Kestrelpaw: Tortoiseshell ticked tabby she-cat with green eyes and a white chest and paws.

Cinderpaw: Light gray ticked tabby she-cat with blue eyes and a white tail-tip.

Queens -

Sedgefrost: Gray tabby she-cat with yellow eyes and white ears.

Kits -

Turtlekit: Tortoiseshell tabby she-cat with amber eyes and white ears. 

Poppykit: Red tabby she-cat with blue eyes and a white chest and paws. 

Ryekit: Pale golden she-cat with one eye missing and a white chest and paws. 

Wisteriafall: White she-cat with silver ticked tabby patches and blue eyes. 

Elders -

Blackpelt: Skinny black tom with amber eyes. Oldest cat in MudClan 

Havenwhisker: White tom with red tabby patches and blue eyes. 

Stormblaze: Dark gray she-cat with cloudy, blind eyes. 

Robintail: Reddish brown she-cat with amber eyes and a white chest and paws. 

 

**PeakClan**

Leader -

Shiverstar - White she-cat with golden patches and green eyes.

Deputy -

Hazepool: Gray ticked tabby she-cat with green eyes and a white chest and paws.

Medicine Cat -

 

Echoshade: Dark gray tabby she-cat with blue eyes and a white tail-tip.

Warriors -

Wisteriasight: Dark ginger she-cat with green eyes and a white underbelly.

(Apprentice: Twigpaw)

Roachscar: Silver tom with amber eyes.

Antstrike: Pale she-cat with green eyes and a white tail-tip.

Flashthorn: White tom with yellow eyes.

(Apprentice: Sorrelpaw)

Newtwhisker: Pale tortoiseshell tabby she-cat with yellow eyes and white ears.

Honeythorn: Orange she-cat with one eye missing.

 

Reednose: Reddish brown tom with copper eyes and white ears.

Hollowbreeze: Pale tortoiseshell spotted tabby she-cat with yellow eyes and white ears.

Rushpetal: Orange she-cat with amber eyes.

(Apprentice: Kitepaw)

Daisyflight: White she-cat with copper eyes.

Apprentices -

Sorrelpaw: Tortoiseshell spotted tabby she-cat with amber eyes and a white underbelly.

Kitepaw: Light brown tom with blue eyes and white ears.

Twigpaw: Pale tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes.

Queens -

Vinespots: Tortoiseshell tabby she-cat with yellow eyes and a white underbelly.

Bluedawn: Silver spotted tabby she-cat with yellow eyes and a white underbelly.

Lavenderpool: Light gray she-cat with yellow eyes and a white tail-tip.

Kits -

Tansykit: Sand-colored she-cat with green eyes and a white chest and paws.

Sycamorekit: Pale tom with green eyes.

Elders -

Yarrowblaze: Pale ginger she-cat with copper eyes and a white tail-tip.

Emberpelt: Pale tortoiseshell tabby she-cat with green eyes and a white chest and paws.

 

IceClan

Leader -

Sparrowstar: Light brown tabby tom with one eye missing and a white chest and paws.

Deputy -

Nightfoot: Dark gray tabby she-cat with green eyes.

Medicine Cat -

Pigeonfang: Dark gray tabby tom with green eyes.

Apprentice -

Runningpaw: Tortoiseshell she-cat with yellow eyes.

Warriors -

Duckeye: Dusty brown tom with yellow eyes and white ears.

Acornstreak: Light brown ticked tabby tom with yellow eyes.

Silverfrost: Silver tom with green eyes and white ears.

(Apprentice: Mottlepaw)

Fernfeather: Silver tabby she-cat with green eyes and white ears.

Antpath: Dark gray spotted tabby tom with amber eyes and a white chest and paws.

(Apprentice: Sagepaw)

Sloefang: Light gray spotted tabby tom with copper eyes and a white tail-tip.

Shellstreak: White she-cat with gray tabby patches and green eyes.

Chillpath: White she-cat with one eye missing.

Palestorm: Gray spotted tabby tom with yellow eyes.

Daisyjaw: White she-cat with brown patches and yellow eyes.

Apprentices -

Sagepaw: Gray spotted tabby tom with amber eyes.

Mottlepaw: Tortoiseshell she-cat with amber eyes.

Queens:

Stormstream: Pale tabby she-cat with violet eyes.

Kits -

Thrushkit: Light gray tom with blue eyes.

Claykit: Light gray tom with yellow eyes.

Stoatkit: Ginger tabby she-cat with copper eyes and a white chest and paws.

Elders:

Wolfpelt: Blue tom with yellow eyes and a white chest and paws.

Minnowspots: Light gray tom with yellow eyes.

Finchclaw: Red tabby she-cat with yellow eyes and a white underbelly.

* * *

 

 _The first victim of the Red Drowning_ had been an apprentice.

 

Rainfall was enjoying his fresh-kill outside of his den, sharing it with Duskpelt, the clan deputy, and his apprentice, Mosspaw. They had been idly chatting, discussing clan duties (Duskpelt’s apprentice, Thriftpaw, had been acting up lately, and so the mentor was wondering if Rainfall could use another set of paws to gather herbs and mouse bile) and everything had seemed normal.

 

A patrol returned, conversation casual between the cats in the group. Patchsong’s one good eye gleamed as she stared proudly down at her apprentice, Kestrelpaw. She carried a plump rabbit in her jaws, an impressive catch for how slowly newleaf was thawing the soil. Patchsong hurried over to Duskpelt, telling the deputy all about how well her apprentice was doing. Kestrelpaw was the oldest apprentice, surely she would be getting her warrior name soon.

 

Once he was done with his meal, Rainfall headed back into the medicine den, sorting through his herbs. If the rebellious Thriftpaw was going to be helping him, he might as well see what herbs he needed. Leaf-bare had brought greencough, as it often does, and his supplies of catmint were low, but he internally debated whether or not he could trust a sassy apprentice not to eat the sweet-smelling herb.

 

He was about to ask Mosspaw what she thought, but he was interrupted when Kestrelpaw staggered in. Her breathing was heavy, but she pushed through with a good-humored smile. She must have eaten something bad, she said, because her stomach is like an angry badger. With a purr of amusement, Rainfall gestured for her to sit down in the nest for patients. He had just replaced the moss earlier, and Kestrelpaw nestled gratefully into it.

 

Rainfall started by asking her the usual questions. Had she eaten anything odd lately? Not that she could tell, she claimed, but maybe there was something in her fresh-kill she hadn’t tasted. Has she been drinking enough water? Yes, she replied, she had just gone out for a drink during the hunting patrol.

 

Rainfall mixed a familiar concoction of herbs and berries, good for soothing even the most stubborn of bellyaches, and placed it in front of Kestrelpaw. She purred a ‘thank you’ and took a few shaky bites. A bit of concern nipped at Rainfall as he watched her struggle to chew. If she had some kind of carrion poisoning, she’d be sick for a few sunrises at least. Hopefully, the herbs would make bearing the pain a little easier.

 

But something went wrong.

 

Mid-chew, Kestrelpaw froze. Rainfall rushed to her side, spilling concerned questions, but she just screwed her eyes shut tight, gritting her teeth as she went rock-tense from pain. Eventually, she eased a bit and opened her mouth to reply to Rainfall’s inquiries, but she was suddenly overtaken by a fit of coughing. Blood splattered the moss in front of her, dribbling from her lips as she convulsed.

 

She couldn’t get any coherent words out, and Rainfall was left only to panic as he tried to figure out what to do. He scrambled around his den, trying to remember if his mentor had taught him anything about _this,_ but he had no idea what to do.

 

A yowl of agony caught his ears, and he turned around, just in time to watch Kestrelpaw vomit pure red. She collapsed next to it, breathing shallow and labored. Rainfall rushed to her side, licking her ears and trying to get her to speak, but she only made these odd choking sounds. No words.

 

 _She’s choking!_ Rainfall realized with a start. He tried to encourage her to cough, but he just continued to wheeze and sputter. Her throat seemed clear, but she definitely couldn’t breathe. On top of that, having just lost so much blood from—from _StarClan knows what source_ —she wasn’t strong enough to force gulps of air down.

 

The commotion attracted Willowstar, the clan’s leader, into the den. She stepped in just in time for Kestrelpaw’s spasming to slow until she fell still.

 

——

 

The second victim was a queen.

 

Hawkflight and Wisteriafall were the perfect example of a couple so sickeningly in love it was both sweet and embarrassing to look at. During Rainfall’s apprenticeship, they had both been his denmates, and he still remembered cheering for them as they earned their warrior names together. Even then, they had their tails entwined affectionately.

 

It had taken them a few seasons to finally decide to have kits, which is the only thing that served to surprise anyone in the clan. Wisteriafall moved into the nursery as soon as Rainfall had told her she was due in around a moon, and that day was getting closer and closer. Almost daily Hawkflight would visit her, talking to her, being overly affectionate, and driving Sedgefrost, the other nursing queen, absolutely nuts.

 

Her kits found it hilarious, though. Rainfall had heard several times the kits go _‘ewwww!’_ from inside the nursery as Hawkflight touched noses with his mate. Wisteriafall would tease them gently in response, telling them that someday, _they_ might be all mushy with _their_ mates. The kits, without fail, would squeal and giggle and run out of the nursery. Sedgefrost may act annoyed to Wisteriafall’s face, but Rainfall saw the way her eyes softened when she saw her kits running around, bubbling with joy.

 

Rainfall didn’t approve when he saw Hawkflight taking his mate for a walk, as she was likely due within the quarter-moon, but he decided not to give him a hard time about it. Hawkflight was so protective, he knew that he wasn’t about to overwork his mate. Wisteriafall would be just fine.

 

The sun had climbed a few tail-lengths in the sky when Hawkflight hastily shoved Wisteriafall into his den. He could sense the queen’s pain the moment she entered, and Hawkflight was in a panic. Her kitting was a few sunrises early, but such a thing wasn’t unheard of. Rainfall _wished_ that Wisteriafall was in the nursery for this, but as she collapsed, whimpering in pain, he knew he couldn’t move her. He shoved Hawkflight out of the den and tried to make the queen comfortable. It had been only a few days since Kestrelpaw had been in here, and he hoped that she couldn’t smell any of the blood he had struggled to clean up.

 

He had delivered kits before. He delivered Cinderpaw and Pebblepaw, then later Thriftpaw, and then later still he delivered Sedgefrost’s kits, and more than that. He knew what to expect, he knew what a queen’s body does when kitting.

 

And so, he knew what Wisteriafall _wasn’t_ having her kits.

 

Rainfall’s stomach dropped with dread as she whimpered with pain. He and Willowstar had decided to write Kestrelpaw off as a bout of terrible, terrible luck, but deep down he was afraid that someone else would fall under the same affliction she did. He shoved his doubts out of his mind and tried to convince himself that Wisteriafall was kitting, and things were just different than other cats.

 

When she started coughing, however, Rainfall could no longer pretend. Wisteriafall started to panic as she herself realized that she wasn’t kitting as expected. Rainfall began asking panicked questions, where she had been, what she’d been doing with Hawkflight. She, through her pain, had just replied that he’d brought her out to get a drink of water from the Peace River, which divided MudClan from the other territories. She had gone to one of the closer spots, where she and Hawkflight both settled in to quench their thirst.

 

After that, she couldn’t answer any more questions, too consumed by fits of convulsing and coughing. Rainfall froze, unsure of what to do. All he could do was watch in horror as another cat suffocated on her own blood.

 

Hawkflight stormed in, staggering as if his paws were fitted on wrong, he weakly pushed past Rainfall, curling up around his mate. His muzzle was covered in blood, seemingly quickly picked up from his mate, and he desperately pressed into her. Guilt weighed in Rainfall’s belly, feeling responsible for the queen’s death, and the tom’s misery. He couldn’t bear to watch as Hawkflight began to shake with grief, and he stumbled out of the den.

 

Rainfall was surprised to see a few horrified cats outside of the den, and he assumed that Wisteriafall’s coughing had attracted them. However, he realized there may have been a second source for their concern when he stepped in something warm and sticky. Feeling ice cold, he looked down and saw a pool of blood lapping at his front paw. He felt like a statue, empty and still, before he forced himself to run back inside the den.

 

Curled around his mate was the third victim, Hawkflight.

 

——

 

Rainfall wasn’t even there for the fourth victim’s final moments.

 

After sunset, he stumbled numbly out of camp, still unable to accept the deaths of Hawkflight and Wisteriafall, even a few sunrises later. Mosspaw padded behind him, and she said something, but Rainfall scarcely heard her. He just needed to clear his head, maybe hunt a little, gather herbs—do _something._

 

Catmint. He needed catmint. He had lost a few cats last leaf-bare due to a lack of it, and though newleaf had brought warmth back, it was never a bad thing to have. On top of that, he needed to care for the plants to ensure they were recovering well. He forced as many thoughts unrelated to the deaths into his head as he could. Hadn’t Duskpelt offered to lend her apprentice to the medicine den? Thriftpaw and Mosspaw were littermates, surely they could work well together.

 

He approached the riverside, where the catmint grew. Immediately, confusion bubbled within him. The plant was alive, seemingly, but the color was off. It wasn’t dry or rotten, it was turning a sickly yellow color along the edges of the leaves. Curiously, he nipped off a leaf, and his mouth was met with a foul taste. It still had the sweet tang of catmint, but it was covered with something else as if it had been dipped in mouse bile. He spat it out with disgust. Mosspaw sniffed it curiously, while Rainfall peered around to see if any other plants had popped up nearby. He opened his mouth to taste the air.

 

At first, nothing. Then, a breeze filtered through, and something hit the roof of his mouth with the force of a warrior’s blow. Rainfall’s stomach flipped. The reek of blood had blown from downstream. His paws moved before his mind could catch up, and he numbly heard Mosspaw hurrying along behind him.

 

He pushed through the ferns, and his paws froze to the ground as if ice had formed around them. It was as if, overwhelmed by all the misery and dread he’d felt, his brain simply gave up on feeling anymore. He lost all senses as he stared at the body of Duskpelt, the clan deputy, laying before him. Blood dribbled from her mouth and pooled under her head

 

As if someone else were moving his paws, he dragged Duskpelt through the sparse woodland. She felt both weightless and heavier than boulders at the same time. The only thing that brought him back to his senses was Willowstar’s anguished wail as she ran over to her deputy’s body, and it was only then that Rainfall realized he had made it back to camp.

 

The clan mourned as he hobbled back into his den. He had been fond of Duskpelt, she was level-headed and a good friend to him, but he just couldn’t hurt any more than he already was. He slumped into his nest, not bothering to groom himself.

 

Mosspaw nestled beside him, murmuring and trying to comfort him. He eased, grateful for her presence. His apprentice was one of the most important cats in the world to him.

 

Rainfall never knew his father, and his mother died of greencough soon after his apprenticeship. He had only one littermate, but she hadn’t made it past kithood. He had no kin in the clan, but part of him would always regard Mosspaw as family. She was like a sister to him, and he only wanted happiness for her.

 

Trembling, he wrapped his tail around his apprentice, focusing less on the world, and more on her warmth.

 

——

 

“We’ll be having a gathering soon,” Willowstar spoke, snapping Rainfall out of his thoughts. “It’ll be good to talk to the other clans. Especially the other medicine cats.”

 

Rainfall looks at his half-eaten prey, unwilling to eat. In response to Willowstar’s words, he just weakly shrugged. “...I guess.”

 

The leader grimaced. “...you can’t keep blaming yourself, Rainfall. Nobody’s seen this illness before, not even Blackpelt.”

 

Bristletooth, the new clan deputy, coughed awkwardly. “If, er, if you’re not going to eat that…”

 

Willowstar fixed her with a glare. “Have some tact, Bristletooth!”

 

Rainfall rolled the rabbit over to her. “No, it’s fine. Better someone else eats then just wasting it.” Willowstar still disapproved, judging by her expression, but she didn’t say anything.

 

“...Patchsong took losing Kestrelpaw pretty hard,” Bristletooth said through a mouthful of rabbit. “I know you can’t just _replace_ an apprentice, but… do you think it’d make her feel better if she got one of Sedgefrost’s kits?”

 

“They’re three moons old,” Willowstar pointed out. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

 

Rainfall shrugged again. “I don’t know, maybe it’s good to think ahead like that.” _Anything to avoid thinking about the Red Drowning._

 

That’s what the cats had taken to calling it. It was like the victims of the mysterious illness had drowned in their own blood, suffocating on it. The idea of dying like that alone made Rainfall want to empty the contents of his stomach.

 

“How is Thriftpaw doing?” Willowstar asked her deputy.

 

Bristletooth paused, sighing. “She doesn’t like me. I guess she just sees me as a replacement for Duskpelt.”

 

Rainfall stood up. No matter how much they talked, everything came back to the illness eventually, and he couldn’t listen to it anymore. “I need to get some fresh air. I’ll be back.”

 

Before Willowstar or Bristletooth could stop him, he turned around and hurried out of camp. He just needed to get away from it all for a bit, but was there really any escape? He shook his head to try and clear it, quickening his pace.

 

He pushed through the ferns, pausing as he heard the river. He realized how parched he was. He’d only been drinking from leaves and puddles lately, not wanting to leave camp for too long, but the dehydration must have been catching up with him. Maybe he would feel better after a good drink.

 

He approached the edge of the Peace River, pausing for a moment to look over it. In one direction, he saw the sloping, rocky hills of IceClan. In the other, he saw the rough, jagged terrain of PeakClan. He wondered if the medicine cats of the other clans were facing anything like his own experience.

 

Letting out a deep sigh, he bent his head down to take a drink, letting his eyes close as his tongue dipped into the water.

 

He reeled back, spitting and sputtering as a bitter, metallic taste filled his mouth. _Blood!_ He coughed, trying to get the warm, syrupy liquid out of his mouth. With dawning horror, he saw that the river at his paws ran a dark red, sluggish and radiating a sickly heat. He stumbled back, and before he could let out a yowl of alarm—

 

It was back to normal. Rainfall breathed heavily, fear still coursing through his limbs even though the threat had gone. _What was that?_ He thought helplessly to himself as his heart continued to pound. _Was… that a sign from StarClan…?!_

 

A realization like swallowing ice hit him. He remembered Kestrelpaw, and her responses to his questions about her health. He remembered the walk Hawkflight and Wisteriafall took together. He remembered where he found Duskpelt.

 

He got to his paws and ran back to camp as fast as he could. His muscles strained and burned with the effort, but he didn’t care.

 

_The victims aren’t sick, they’re poisoned!_

 

_There’s something wrong with the water!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An elder makes a sacrifice.

Rainfall burst into camp, his fur prickling as if some cat had pushed him into a pile of cinders. It was midday, and it seemed as though most warriors were on patrol. In camp, he only saw Acornpath sharing tongues with Frogspots, the elders chatting in their den, and Sedgefrost sunning herself as her kits played. A new face appeared as Willowstar pushed her way out of her den, dug into the roots of a hollow tree. She shook out her pelt and approached.

 

“What has you all in a hurry?” She asked, before a look of horror flashed on her face. “Are we being invaded? Was there another red drowning?”

 

Rainfall struggled to catch his breath. “Sta-“ he stammered, “StarClan sent me a sign—“ He forced air down into his chest, so he could speak clearly. “It’s the water. The water—it’s  _ poisoned, _ Willowstar!”

 

She took a startled step back. “The water is… what? All of the water in the forest? Rainfall, we’d be dead by now, I just shared a drink with you in a rain puddle—“

 

“The river, damn you!” Rainfall snapped, feeling a spike of ire through his anxiety. “The river is poisoned!”

 

Acornpath, who had been trying to look like she wasn’t eavesdropping, gave herself away with a gasp. Sedgefrost ushered her kits into the nursery.

 

Willowstar’s ears flattened. “Quiet down, will you? No need to scare the cats before we have things all figured out. What was the sign?”

 

Rainfall forced his hackles to lie flat. “I bent down to take a drink, but… for a moment, the river turned into blood. It even  _ tasted _ the part, and thank StarClan for that, because that was my cue to spit it out…” Deep breaths. “Someone needs to gather all the patrols, make sure nobody drinks.”

 

“What’s this about the river?” a voice croaked from the camp entrance. Rainfall turned around to face a skinny black tom—Blackpelt, the clan’s oldest elder. With a sinking dread, the medicine cat saw his whiskers glistening with fresh water.

 

“Blackpelt,” Willowstar stepped forward. “Where were you just now.”

 

To his credit, Blackpelt kept a level head. “The river.”

 

Medicine cats were trained to accept that sometimes, you lose cats. Suffering is the price cats pay for having free will. However, no amount of training can prepare anyone for telling another cat that they’re going to die.

 

Rainfall swallowed. “Blackpelt, into my den please.” Not waiting for an answer, he headed for the medicine den, hearing two sets of pawsteps behind him.

 

He stopped, facing the back wall of the den, not turning around even as he heard Willowstar and Blackpelt enter. “What’s this about, scrap?” Blackpelt inquired.

 

Finally, Rainfall found the courage to turn around, facing a dead cat still on his paws. “...the river’s poisoned, Blackpelt.”

 

In a few silent moments, Rainfall saw the old tom’s expression change from confusion, to shock, to fear, and then to a calm resignation. “I see. So what happened to the others—I’m next, eh?”

 

Rainfall forced himself to nod. “I… I’m so sorry, Blackpelt, if only I’d gotten the sign a little sooner—“

 

Blackpelt cut him off. “Scrap, if I hear you blame yourself one more time, I’m gonna rip your ears off and eat ‘em. This isn’t your fault, alright?” He paused, before his eyes flashed, “...so, as an old cat getting ready to die, can I get a last request?”

 

“Of course,” Willowstar replied, “you’re a valued and beloved clan member.”

 

“Don’t bury me right away,” Blackpelt spoke. “I want you to cut me open and see exactly what this poison does to us.”

 

Rainfall’s stomach flipped. “Blackpelt, we can’t—“

 

“How are we supposed to fix anything if we don’t know how this ‘poison’ works? Herbs ain’t just magic, scrap. They fix certain problems. How are you supposed to fix a problem we don’t know anything about?”

 

Rainfall gulped.  _ But what if we can’t fix it? _

 

Willowstar cleared her throat. “Blackpelt, are you sure…? You’re giving us permission to desecrate your body.”

 

“Why should I care? I’ll be dead. Not like I’m using it anymore.” He shrugged. “Listen, I knew I was gonna be headed to Silverpelt soon. This wasn’t my plan on how to go, but I’ve made my peace. Just let my body give you some kind of answer on what this poison does, alright?”

 

Rainfall opened his mouth to protest further, but suddenly Blackpelt staggered forward with a gasp. Willowstar rushed to support him, holding him up by his shoulder. “Blackpelt, are you—“

 

“Damn it all,” he hissed. “This sure does—hurt a bit—“ Despite Willowstar’s support, Blackpelt sank into his nest. She moved to help him up again, but he spat at her. “What are you even doing in here?! Make sure the clan knows not to drink that damn poison!”

 

Willowstar, shocked to be the one being told what to do, just dumbly nodded and hurried out of the den. Rainfall could hear her voice, calling to the few cats in camp to go and find the others, but he quickly tuned it out. He ran to his herb stores, looking for some poppy seeds, but he yelped as something sharp latched onto his tail.

 

Blackpelt glared at him, spitting out his fur. “Don’t waste your herbs on a dead cat.”

 

“At least a poppy seed would make your journey much less painful!” Rainfall insisted.

 

“I’ll be dead before I feel any effects. Just sit with an old cat, will you? Don’t—“ he started coughing, “—don’t make me do this alone, scrap.”

 

Rainfall’s heart twisted. Despite Blackpelt’s brave face, the old tom was still scared to die. With a deep breath in and out, Rainfall curled around his skinny form. “...thank you, Blackpelt. You’re a good cat. StarClan will be honored to have you,” Rainfall murmured, grooming his ears.

 

Blackpelt eased a bit, despite the pain he was in. “...I’ll see… my littermates again,” he murmured, before dissolving into another fit of coughing. “H-Heh, I knew I’d… outlive them. I always said I would.”

 

“Oh, the looks on their faces…” Rainfall struggled to keep humor in his tone.  _ How can I comfort this old cat, when I’m doing terribly myself? _

 

“...I-I’ll send your r-regards to— to little M—“ He struggled with the words, in the end losing them entirely to a fit of coughing. His words didn’t register, quickly overshadowed by Rainfall’s concern for his well-being. Blood was splattering from Blackpelt’s mouth, coating the white fur on Rainfall’s chest.

 

The last thing Rainfall saw in Blackpelt’s wide eyes was fear. A kit-like fear, from a cat who could no longer be brave. Then, he watched the light drain from him. Blackpelt went still against his flank.

 

Rainfall’s heart was pounding so hard he thought he was going to make himself sick. His legs shook as he pulled himself to his paws, and for a moment he wondered if he was going to fall over.

 

But he couldn’t. He had something to do. 

 

He limped to the back of his den, picking up a sharpened dog’s tooth. Before, this had been a tool used to extract bile without soiling the entire piece of prey, for when the leaf-bare months couldn’t spare even a mouse for a meal. 

 

Gripping it in his jaw, he looked at Blackpelt’s body. Today, it was a tool for something else.

 

——

 

It was hard to figure out what was what, as everything just looked like a mess of blood and meat. With a chill he had realized that, by the end of it, he no longer felt any horror at seeing the old cat’s innards. Blood and meat had just blended together with more blood and meat.

 

He had assumed the stomach would have the most damage, but there was only a small amount of bleeding there in actuality. Really, the name ‘red drowning’ couldn’t have been more apt. The lungs, the air sacs that allowed a cat to breathe, were completely swamped with thick, coagulated fluid. No wonder the victims couldn’t breathe, there was no room for air anymore. They drowned on dry land.

 

Of course, there was just one problem. Blackpelt’s wish had been simple: to use his body to find a cure for the poisoning. He had wanted Rainfall to study the effects and find an antidote. However, he had no idea how any of this could ever be cured. The poison razed the lungs and left irritated, bloody holes in the stomach. Even greencough was kinder.

 

The body had been taken away for burial, and Rainfall remained in his den. Blackpelt’s blood was still everywhere, and he hadn’t even begun to groom himself of it. He just curled up in his nest, trembling and shaking like a kit left in the leaf-bare snow.

 

“I’m so sorry, Blackpelt,” he whimpered. “I can’t cure this. It was all for nothing.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rainfall goes to meet with StarClan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note: The Warrior Code is a bit different in these clans, as each one developed based on experiences the forest clans faced. The code as a whole is similar, but there are a few laws missing:  
> 1\. Rejecting kittypets. The territories don’t have much human influence, only along the distant outskirts, and thus kittypets are not common.  
> 2\. No killing in battle. Killing is frowned upon, and if your enemy is defeated while still alive, it’s customary to let them go. However, there’s no real law discouraging killing if your enemy won’t retreat.  
> 3\. Medicine Cat meetings + freedoms: There are no half-moon meetings, so the medicine cats don’t really know one another all that well. On top of that, it’s generally considered frowned upon to attack a medicine cat, and the code protects any cat seeking StarClan’s aid, but there are no rules which allow medicine cats freedom across borders.
> 
> Now, enjoy the show.

Rainfall knew that visiting StarClan to seek wisdom was far overdue, but the idea of going so far away from camp worried him. Ever since the source of the poisoning was discovered, there had been no deaths. However, things in camp were still bad. Rain was generous, sure, but living off of puddles when all cats were used to having such an abundant water supply was wearing on everyone. On top of that, it would only take a short drought to potentially wipe out the entire clan due to dehydration.

 

However, in the end, Willowstar insisted he should go. Even with the risks of having their medicine cat out of camp, sharing tongues with StarClan was a necessity. There was no way MudClan could survive this without contact with their ancestors, and without visiting the StarClaw, they could only send him vague signs. The only way to get direct information from their ancestors was to go to them directly.

 

The only problem was that the shimmering, jagged stone was in PeakClan territory. Medicine cats were often lended the freedom to go to the StarClaw whenever they chose to, but there was still the risk of hostility. He may be MudClan’s medicine cat, but he was still MudClan.

 

But... attacking medicine cats was frowned upon, so surely he would be fine, right?

 

“Rainfall?” Mosspaw’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Which herb is thyme, again?”

 

He flicked his tail with a sigh. “Mosspaw, you’ve been training long enough to know this.” He paused, before sympathy took over. “...It’s those leaves, over there,” he said, touching the leaves with his paw. “Are you sure you’re ready to handle this?”

 

The little tortoiseshell nodded. “Of course I am! Besides, it’s only a day, right?”

 

“Not even.” He touched his nose to the top of her head, and she ducked away before he could make contact. “I’ll be back before you know it. Do you have any other questions before I go?”

 

“Yes, erm...” A humorous look glittered in her eyes. “How about those pretty red berries by the IceClan border? Those are for eating, right?”

 

Rainfall rolled his eyes. “So, you’re fine. Goodbye, Mosspaw.” She responded only with a purr of amusement, before he ducked out of the medicine den, walking into camp. He took a deep breath, still tasting the bitter herbs caught in his throat. Sparing a longing glance at the fresh-kill pile (which was still well-stocked despite the other disasters currently going on) he headed for the brush tunnel.

 

“Rainfall, wait!” A voice called to him from behind, causing his ears to raise. Turning around, he saw the silver tabby pelt of Willowstar approaching.

 

“Do you need something before I go?” Rainfall inquired, tilting his head slightly to the side.

 

Willowstar shook her head. “No, no, it’s alright. I just wanted to wish you luck before you departed. I know this is a journey that shouldn’t give you too much difficulty or resistance, but...” She trailed off.

 

“But what?” Rainfall felt concern prickle in his belly. “Is there something you’re worried about?”

 

She shook her head once again. “No, no, I just... I figured a good luck wish couldn’t hurt.” She lifted her head a little. “I’m actually... really optimistic now. Once you speak with StarClan, surely you’ll get some answers on how to handle this situation.”

 

Rainfall managed a small smile. “Of course. I’ll be sure to bring back every bit of information they give me. Farewell, Willowstar.”

 

She gave him a friendly brush of the tail across his flank. “Farewell for now. Again; good luck.”

 

With that, Rainfall nodded with a renewed determination, turning and pushing his way out of camp. The scents of the mossy forest around him filled his mouth instantly, and even a few prey-scents reached him. His instincts itched to hunt and eat, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to when intending to share tongues with StarClan that very night. Besides, he was sure his hunting had gotten rusty after being a medicine cat for several seasons.

 

Instead, he continued on into the forest. The sun would have climbed nearly to the summit of the sky before he reached the river which marked the border separating MudClan from it’s two neighbors. Normally, he wouldn’t be afraid to swim—all MudClan cats learned, though it wasn’t a skill often used—but after Pebblepaw had returned from a swim with a horrible rash, he knew that whatever poison was in the water wasn’t just dangerous if ingested. He should be careful about letting it touch him. Even straying too close to the river’s edge had given a few cats sores on their paw pads, and awful bellyaches if they hadn’t been careful grooming the moisture off.

 

Rainfall had a plan, at least. He hoped it was a good plan, but really, he couldn’t be sure. He padded up and down the riverbank, careful not to let his paws rest too long on the damp surface. Finally, he found a spot narrow enough to potentially jump.

 

He fell into a crouch reminiscent of those used by hunters to leap onto distant prey, building up all of his strength into his hind legs. After a few tense moments, he released the built-up energy, soaring across the flowing river. Unfortunately, despite his impressive leap, it wasn’t enough, and he cursed under his breath when he felt his tail slip into the water, along with one of his hind paws. Faced with the decision of risking mouth sores by grooming himself or just resigning himself to irritated skin, he decided to pick the latter and continue onwards.

 

The smell of PeakClan surrounded him. Along the border, their territory wasn’t awfully different from MudClan’s, but the craggy rocks that made up the rest of their land were just up ahead, and amongst them would be the quiet cave tucked between stones, serving as the conduit for StarClan.

 

With a deep breath in and a lifted gaze, Rainfall pushed on, focusing on the cave up ahead. Something about the air felt tense. It was similar to the feeling before a thunderstorm, where the air is damp and heavy, and the clouds make the daytime as dark as midnight. However, the sky was clear, and the only moisture in the air was from the quickly fading dew and the mist from the river.

 

(Feeling a jab of fear, Rainfall wondered if breathing in the mist from the river would be just as dangerous as drinking it.)

 

Eventually, he reached the mouth of the cave, breathing a sigh of relief. Soon, he would have answers, and everything would be fine. StarClan has always illuminated his path, and he’s been yet to be steered wrong by them.

 

He took one paw step into the cave before something barreled into his side, sending him flying and knocking his breath out of him. He hit the rocky ground hard, wincing as his ribs were pierced by a sharp stone. His world spun for a moment as his mind staggered to keep up with what was going on. When his reflexes finally served him, he looked up, wide-eyed, at his attacker.

 

A large silver tom held him down with sharp claws digging into his shoulder. He recognized the scent as PeakClan, and after a moment he realized this cat was Roachscar, one of their warriors. With a start, he saw another cat behind him with a dappled golden pelt and a missing eye; a she-cat named Honeythorn.

 

He whimpered and struggled. “What are you doing?” He wheezed out, squirming as Roachscar’s claws sunk deeper into his skin. “I’m not trespassing, I just need to visit StarClan...! The code—“

 

Honeythorn trotted over, swiping her claws across Rainfall’s nose. “Shut up. You have no right to call upon the code!”

 

“What!?” Rainfall blurted. “What are you talking about? I haven’t—I haven’t done anything wrong, please let me g—“ His words cut off with a strained ‘hrrk’ sound as Roachscar pushed more of his weight down onto him.

 

Roachscar leaned in until his muzzle was brushing Rainfall’s ear fur. He could smell his rotten breath, as if he’d resorted to eating carrion. “We know the truth. We know it’s one of the other clans poisoning the river!”

 

“W-We... We’re not...” He couldn’t get the words out. “N...Not... us...!”

 

“You won’t be meeting with StarClan any time soon,” Honeythorn hissed. “Tell your leader; no one is allowed into the cave until the river runs clear! No exceptions!”

 

_‘They’re holding the cave hostage!’_ Rainfall realized with a feeling of icy dread.

 

“...Honeythorn,” Roachscar mewed. “How about we throw this maggot into the river?”

 

Rainfall stifled a gasp, suddenly very aware of the gash across his ribs. If the poison got into his wound, there was no telling what would happen. With a rush of fear-driven adrenaline, Rainfall managed to push upwards, throwing Roachscar off. The silver tom stumbled back with a furious hiss, and Honeythorn leapt into action. Rainfall wasn’t about to linger around to see what they had planned for him. Ignoring the pain from his wounds, he turned tail and ran, only feeling Honeythorn’s claws graze his haunches as she tried (and thank StarClan, failed) to grab him.

 

He heard one of them yowl, but he wasn’t about to stop to figure out who, nor was he about to listen to what they said. He knew it couldn’t be good, considering the tone. He ran as fast as his paws could carry him, scrambling across the river at the shallowest point. He knew that his paws would be burning later, but he couldn’t risk falling into a part that ran deeper than his belly and getting water in his wound. He did feel the sting of a few droplets hitting the exposed flesh, but he couldn’t stop to worry about that now.

 

He only let himself slow down when he realized he wasn’t being followed. That’s when exhaustion hit him with more force than Roachscar’s initial attack did. Part of him wanted to just lay down in the middle of the forest and be done with it, but he knew that was just a poor idea. He took a deep breath in, and then out again, but his pounding heart wouldn’t slow.

 

He had to get back to camp. Willowstar needed to know what was going on. Even though his entire body ached, he pushed on. It was nearly sunset when he arrived back in camp.

 

What Rainfall expected, for this time of day, was for cats to be milling about happily in camp. They’d be sharing prey, grooming one another, and talking about the day’s patrols before Bristletooth called some of them for the dusk routes. He felt bad that he was about to interrupt that scene by staggering into camp with an injury.

 

But that wasn’t the sight that greeted him when he entered. No, in fact, it was the opposite. Not a cat noticed him at first, all focused on the sight in the middle of camp. With horror he recognized Sedgefrost’s gray pelt, and the tiny bodies of her kits, all soaked in blood.

 

‘But how?’ He thought helplessly to himself. Cats had been warned extensively about the river, and even if those warnings were ignored, kits weren’t allowed that far from camp. How could the poison had reached them?

 

He remember with a jolt of dread the day he had found the herbs by the riverside, poisoned a sickly color and with a bitter taste. Not only cats could be poisoned; surely, it affected plants... and prey, too. Sedgefrost had just started giving her kits solid food.

 

A few cats called out to him, but he felt like his ears had filled with cotton. Nothing was real right now. He felt like he was watching the events before him from the branches of a tree. A cat that was usually himself turned and dragged his heavy paws into his den, not bothering to clean himself or his wounds before collapsing into a nest.

 

He fell into a dark, cold sleep, filled with a cacophony of anxiety about the coming days.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gathering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. I’m not entirely happy with this chapter, but I figured an update was better than none. Enjoy.

When Rainfall came to, he was laying on the floor of his den. He had thought he’d made it to his nest before collapsing, but the hard dirt beneath him suggested otherwise. He tried to drag himself towards his nest, but a paw resting on his side stopped him. He looked over with bleary eyes to see the sand-colored pelt of Firetalon, one of his clanmates.

 

“Don’t move,” he snapped irritably. “You’re staying where you fell until I finish with your wounds. I never thought having soft fur would be such an inconvenience, but damn it, these poultices aren’t sticking.”

 

Rainfall’s head spun at the other tom’s ranting. “...w...what are you doing...?” His voice was a weak mumble.

 

“I’m surprised you forgot. We were warrior apprentices together, remember?” He rolled his eyes. “When I broke my front paw? I spent a lot of time in here, and when it wasn’t certain if I’d heal, Ashtail taught me some herbs.”

 

Right. The memory came back to him. Ashtail was the medicine cat before him, who had drowned while ill a few seasons ago. The memory of his mentor was bittersweet to recall. “You... still remember all of that?” Rainfall asked, picking his head up.

 

Firetalon trotted over and pushed his head back down. “Of course I remember it. Not all of it, but enough to make sure your wounds don’t rot.”

 

Rainfall had never felt simultaneously grateful and offended to this degree. “...thanks,” he grumbled, a bit unwilling to give Firetalon much more. The other tom rolled his eyes and finished his work, before he silently padded away.

 

A little bit of guilt settled into Rainfall’s chest. Firetalon had been trying to help—he might’ve even saved the wounded medicine cat’s life—and he’d regarded him so... rudely. Later, he would have to apologize, but for now...

 

For now, Rainfall wanted nothing else but to sleep and pray there were no more emergencies while he was resting.

 

—

 

Later, it turns out, wasn’t going to exactly be an option. Rainfall found himself being shaken awake. He felt groggy and heavy, unable to really process anything that was going on around him for several moments. His first coherent thoughts were that, despite his exhaustion, he felt better. Then, after that, he realized he had to have been sleeping for a long, long time.

 

Willowstar, as it turns out, was the one shaking him awake. Concern was painted on her face, and when the ringing in Rainfall’s ears cleared, he could hear her voice.

 

“—fall? Rainfall? Oh, thank StarClan...” She breathed a sigh of relief. “You need to drink and eat. You’ve been sleeping since last sun-high.”

 

Rainfall weakly sat up, grimacing as he felt his belly clawing with hunger. “...has it really been that long?”

 

“Your body needed it,” Firetalon pointed out, pushing his way into the den. “Are you feeling any better, at least?”

 

Rainfall weakly nodded. “I am. Were you... watching over me while I was unconscious?”

 

Firetalon looked away with a huff. “Of course I was. Did you think I wouldn’t? Our clan would be lost without a medicine cat.”

 

‘ _And what’s Mosspaw? Mouse bile?’_ Rainfall thought with a twinge of bitterness, but didn’t dare speak it aloud. Mosspaw wouldn’t appreciate being brought into the conflict. He could see her ducking into the back of the den shyly.

 

No, no... there really was no need for offense. Rainfall let out a deep breath. ”Thank you, Firetalon. I owe you a lot.”

 

The golden warrior seemed flustered for a moment, before looking away. “It’s... it’s fine. Bristletooth wants me for a patrol, and if you’re feeling alright, I’ll... get going.”

 

“Ah, wait,” Willowstar stopped him for a moment. “Could you get an apprentice to fetch him some prey and water from a puddle?”

 

Rainfall’s stomach sank. A puddle. Not from the river. No matter how much was there to distract him, his thoughts always came back to the water. He looked down at his paws, not listening to the parting words shared between Willowstar and Firetalon.

 

“...Rainfall?” A moment later, she snatched his attention back. “The full moon is tomorrow evening. First gathering since the poison has spread. If you’re not feeling back to full strength, I understand, but—“

 

“No, no,” Rainfall interrupted her. “I have to be there. I need to speak with the other medicine cats.”

 

Willowstar nodded. “I had a feeling that’s what you would say, but remember that you don’t have to push yourself. Take today to rest and get your strength back, alright?”

 

“Of course. I’ll do just that.” He settled back into his nest as Willowstar turned to leave the den.

 

He felt like his eyes had only closed for a minute before a blue-gray head pushed its way into the den. Pebblepaw, one of the apprentices, strode into the den. In his over-stuffed jaws he carried a limp mouse and a wad of wet moss. He dropped the bundle on the floor of the den with a ‘bleh’ before giving Rainfall a grin.

 

“Here you go, o great and mighty medicine cat!” Humor glittered in his eyes as he teased.

 

Rainfall picked his head back up, finding the young cat’s cheer to be a bit infectious. “Such a generous offering, young one,” he joked back, pulling the items towards him with a paw. First, he sucked the moss dry, knowing that water was, in many ways, more crucial than food. He tried not to grimace at the foul taste. Puddle water never was as fresh as that from the river. It was like licking the bottom of an overturned rock.

 

The mouse was much better. He scarcely realized how hungry he was before sinking his jaws into it. “...thank you, Pebblepaw. I needed this.”

 

The young cat beamed. “No problem! Hey, do you think Willowstar will let me go to the gathering?”

 

Rainfall looked up from his meal, licking bits of fur off his teeth as he thought. “Well, I don’t see why not. You did help out your old medicine cat.”

 

“Yay! But, hey—“ Pebblepaw pouted, “You’re not old. Cloverlight said that you two became warriors together!”

 

Rainfall purred in amusement. “Alright, I’m not literally old, but I definitely do feel it. Especially now that I’m all achy and stiff. Next time you see the elders, ask them if they’ve got room for one more.”

 

That earned an eye-roll from Pebblepaw. “Geez. I hope I stay young forever.” A glimmer in his eyes showed that he was kidding, but Rainfall wouldn’t have taken offense either way.

 

“Alright, kit. I’ve gotta rest up for tomorrow. Can’t be going to the gathering all scraped up, can I?” He settled back down. “You head on back to your mentor, now.”

 

With that, Pebblepaw meowed a goodbye and hurried from the den, and Rainfall settled in for some more well-needed rest.

 

—

 

Willowstar had pried the truth about his injuries from him before they left for the gathering, and it was all Rainfall could do to keep her from storming over to the Gathering Tower in a furious gust. Even after all his efforts to calm her down, he could still feel anger prickling off of her like shaken fleas. Multiple times he’d had to ask her to slow down, as his injured pace couldn’t match hers.

 

He was healed enough for the trek, yes, but he was still aching all over. Firetalon had done a good job, and it thankfully seemed as though he wouldn’t be adding any new scars to his little collection, but wounds were wounds. They didn’t heal at the twitch of a whisker.

 

“Shiverstar better have a good explanation to why she’s sending warriors after my medicine cat,” Willowstar grumbled.

 

“They’re affected by the poison too,” Rainfall offered. “That might be putting them on edge. Hopefully we can put them at ease—we’re not the ones behind the poisoning, so we just have to assure them of that.”

 

“Hopefully it’s that easy... StarClan willing, at least.” Willowstar pushed through the ferns into the clearing that housed the structure. It was an abandoned Twoleg structure, reclaimed by nature as a symbol of StarClan’s power. Rainfall could already see other cats milling within, but not two clans’ worth.

 

“Someone’s not here yet,” he mumbled to himself as his clan followed into the structure.

 

The sharp scent of IceClan hit his nose, and he looked around. He recognized Pigeonfang, their medicine cat, and his new apprentice Runningpaw. Meanwhile, he saw Willowstar joining Sparrowstar atop the Treeledge. Bristlefrost and Nightfoot, the other deputy, were conversing beneath them.

 

Rainfall approached Pigeonfang, but before he could even get the other tom’s attention, Sparrowstar’s deep voice rang about the structure.

 

“PeakClan has not yet arrived, but we have no time to waste. We can catch them up when they arrive.” He folded his tail neatly around his paws, lifting his head as he surveyed the gathered cats. “It has come to my attention that both of our clans are suffering from the disease carried by the river. Is this correct?”

 

Rainfall wanted to point out that it wasn’t a disease, but he held his tongue. When no other cats spoke, he felt Mosspaw gently nudge him. “You should say something,” she whispered.

 

Clearing his throat, he spoke up. “I... um, I have not yet been able to fully commune with StarClan, however, I did receive a sign from them.”

 

All eyes were on him in a moment. Sparrowstar cocked a brow at him, but Willowstar nodded at him to continue.

 

“The river; when I went to go take a drink, I saw it run red with blood. It’s not a disease, it’s a poison.” The surrounding cats seemed not all that surprised. Some looked doubtful, but most simply nodded. “No cat has caught it from another in our clan. It’s only by drinking contaminated water, or... by eating contaminated prey.” His heart clenched as he remembered Sedgefrost.

 

“I see,” Sparrowstar replied. “That makes sense. Some cats had worried about contracting it from one another, but at least we don’t have any need to worry about that.” He flicked an ear, his one good eye scanning the crowd of gathered cats. “...IceClan is not weak, but I wish to be honest here and admit we have suffered several losses. If any cat is behind the poisoning of the river, it would not be us. We would not have harmed our own in such a way.”

 

Willowstar nodded in agreement. “Well, then I will return your honesty. We have suffered losses as well. May StarClan give them warmth.” She was silent for a moment. “...we have even lost an entire litter of kits.”

 

A few cats in the IceClan crowd gasped, and Willowstar went on. “We would not have sacrificed our own, especially not innocent kits. We are not behind this.”

 

“So, essentially,” Pigeonfang spoke up, “it’s either a force outside of the clans, or it’s—“

 

“PeakClan, attack!”

 

Rainfall only felt an icy prick of horror before he was bowled over by an incoming warrior. Illuminated by the full moon leaking in through the gaps in the ancient structure, Rainfall saw lithe frames filling into the sacred gathering place. Fighting to keep his footing, and wincing as he felt his wounds re-open, he whipped around to see his attacker.

 

A ginger and white she-cat hissed at him, tail bushed out. Rainfall vaguely recognized her as Rushpetal, a PeakClan warrior. She leapt at him again with a furious snarl, and Rainfall instinctually dropped into the defensive. He kept low to the ground, protecting his throat and belly. However, he struggled to keep his footing as she latched onto his back, sinking her claws into his thick fur.

 

“Get OFF OF ME!” Rainfall roared, feeling a spark of rage in his chest. The Gatherings were protected by a sacred truce. To violate that is to violate StarClan’s very word. He reared up onto his hind legs, falling heavy onto his back, throwing his weight onto Rushpetal’s now struggling form.

 

Though out of practice, Rainfall was once a warrior. He’d earned his warrior name before even considering his calling in the medicine den. Though he preferred healing to hurting, his finely-honed instincts were still there, and he often exercised to keep his muscles strong.

 

Rushpetal got to see the full force of this. He wrestled with her on the floor of the ancient structure, teeth sunk into her shoulder. He only let go when he felt a gush of warm liquid fill his mouth, and he could tell Rushpetal was struggling not to attack, but to escape. He released her from his grasp, and hissed furiously as she retreated.

 

He scanned the crowd, looking for the leader of the attack. Surely something like this demanded the attention of either Shiverstar or her deputy, Hazepool. There. He saw them both, challenging Willowstar and Sparrowstar together.

 

With a snarl, Rainfall rushed over to aid his leader, pushing through knots of fighting cats. He felt another ember of rage when he saw an injured IceClan elder limping away. That gave him just the fury he needed to land squarely on Shiverstar’s shoulders, tearing the enemy leader away from his own. Hazepool leapt at him instantly, but Sparrowstar intercepted her, slashing his massive claws across her face, tearing a deep split into one ear.

 

Shiverstar shook Rainfall off, but he had bought Willowstar enough time to rear up and pin her rival down, sinking her claws deep into Shiverstar’s golden and white pelt.

 

“What is the meaning of this!?” Willowstar spat, anger dripping from her words like hot blood from a fresh wound. “This is a Gathering!”

 

“Be quiet, you old fool,” Shiverstar snarled back, defiant despite her losing position. Rainfall staggered to his feet to back his leader up as she continued. “Echoshade spoke with StarClan. The one who poisoned the river is one of your clans!”

 

“What are you talking about!?” Willowstar stammered, reeling from shock. Shiverstar wrestled free and was about to attack again, when a vicious caterwaul caught the attention of all the warring cats.

 

The thin, blood-soaked form of Havenwhisker stood at the far end of the structure. Despite being an elder, he still carried himself with strength. His deep blue eyes were harsh and judging as they raked over the crowd—specifically, the PeakClan cats. “That’s enough. Never in all my days have I ever seen this kind of cowardly and fox-hearted display from any cat! Especially not a clan leader!”

 

“What’s this?” Shiverstar asked incredulously. “A MudClan elder, trying to tell me how to lead my clan?”

 

“You broke the code, Shiverstar,” Sparrowstar growled, his voice low and menacing. “We have a declared truce on these nights.”

 

“Not anymore,” she hissed back, ears flat. “StarClan breathed the truth to Echoshade. A cat from one of your two clans has poisoned the river.”

 

“One cat?” An IceClan elder—the one Rainfall saw injured earlier—hissed as she joined Havenwhisker’s side. Rainfall recognized her as Finchclaw, once a feared warrior before her retirement. “How could one cat poison an entire river? Wouldn’t it have run clean by now?”

 

“Be silent, you senile, indignant—!” Shiverstar cut herself off, aware she was on the losing side of this conflict, in more ways than one. “StarClan gave us the truth. We know, I do not care how it was done, just that it was. PeakClan will not stand for these crimes!”

 

“Rot where there are no stars,” Willowstar hissed. “Look at your warriors. They are sick and weak.” With a start, Rainfall realized she was right. The PeakClan cats looked far worse off than any other clan. They only had a chance in this fight due to their underhanded tactics. “You’re a selfish cat, not worthy of the blessing you carry.”

 

Shiverstar looked like she wanted to retort, but held her tongue. She turned to her warriors. “Retreat! We will not be attending another gathering until the river runs clear. No exceptions!”

 

With that, the injured PeakClan cats followed out of the ancient structure. With a twinge of relief, Rainfall saw no bodies were left behind. There would be wounds to treat—some his own—but no clan had any bodies to carry back.

 

“...” Sparrowstar cleared his throat after a moment of tense silence. “...Shiverstar is a cat I wouldn’t trust as far as a breeze could carry her, but her medicine cat is honorable.”

 

Willowstar spun to face him. “What are you saying? Are you saying you believe this mouse-dung!?”

 

“I’m not sure, but I see good reason to be suspicious.” He scanned the crowd of cats with suspicion in his one-eyed gaze. “IceClan will not be attending gatherings either. Not until the river runs clear once more.”

 

There were shocked gasps from all the collected cats, even those from IceClan. “Sparrowstar,” Nightfoot protested, “you can’t—“

 

“The word of your leader is law, Nightfoot. I don’t know what to believe, and I will not risk my cats in a time of uncertainty.”

 

Willowstar‘ s tail drooped. “There will be no gatherings until this problem is solved, then? This is a danger which affects all of us, we need to face it with unity...!”

 

Sparrowstar’s expression seemed sympathetic, but he remained unwavering. “We will wait for StarClan’s confirmation that cooperating with you all is safe. That, or having the river clear up.”

 

Rainfall’s stomach sank, but he didn’t have the strength to protest. Neither did any cat, it seemed. Even the outspoken elders from earlier simply looked at one another uneasily.

 

“IceClan. We’re going home.” With a flick of his tail, Sparrowstar summoned his cats to him, leading them out of the structure. MudClan was left alone.

 

Rainfall limped over to Havenwhisker. “...that was brave, breaking up the fight. Thank you.”

 

Havenwhisker cast a grateful glance at Rainfall, but an uncertain look replaced it quickly. “...brave, yes, but I worry we’re about to enter the most frightening times the clans have ever seen.”

 

Despite Greenleaf slowly inching onto the forest, Rainfall felt a distinct chill up his spine.


End file.
